The Eastern Wind
by darkSummoner1
Summary: This is a little FanFic I wrote in the Vivendi LotR forum, which is about the deeds of a ruthless assassin named Saryn Sarethi. I based his character on Vicious from Cowboy Bebop, Sephiroth from Final Fantasy VII, and to some extent myself.
1. Default Chapter

Saryn crouched on his knees, resting in the smooth grass, lush and soft. He looked out at the cold eastern sky projecting out over the horizon, dark and lonely, the moon shining her silver rays about the land, turning the air into a faint gray as the grass shimmered in the peaceful light. The great, flat plain spread out before him, as a dark cloth blanketing the world. The wind blew gently across the plains, causing subtle ripples in the grass as the blades swayed back and forth, dancing about the endless fields of Rhun calmly and quietly. The night was tranquil, silent and still. Not a creature stirred, for it was well into the night, and the world seemed at peace.   
  
That was just how Saryn liked it, solitary and silent. It was how he worked, under the dark-gray cloak of evening. Glancing down from his high perch atop a tall, stone plateau, he espied the object of his quest, sitting around a small fire, surrounded by two of his closest companions. They quietly ate their provisions, oblivious of the doom that had been laid upon them. Saryn raised himself from the ground where he crouched, his tall black robes falling silently to the ground. A smirk crept across his face, and he let out a very quiet chuckle. He loved his job: the thrill, the excitement, the money.   
  
Saryn drew his long blade, Azulabawab, and it shimmered brightly with the silver light of the moon. He leapt off the cliff, landing once again on his knees. His cloak collapsed about him, hiding him in the shadows, a dark mound against the even darker earth. The strange man and his companions all glanced to their right, into the dark void, but saw nothing save the outline of a mound upon the plain. Paying little heed, they turned back to their meal. As one of the men set his hands down upon his food, the black mound shifted, rising up to a tall height. Saryn dashed into the sight of the fire. Raising his blade, he slashed through the man's spine, hewing the poor figure in half as a few drops of blood trickled out of the body onto the piece of roasted meat the man was eating. Before all the life passed out of the man, he let out a loud cry. His companions turned to see his top half slide off the log he was sitting in to the ground, landing in a bloody heap. Staring wide-eyed at the figure looming above their fallen companion, they saw the full figure of a tall youthful man, the figure of Saryn. His face, which bore a devilish smirk, was half hidden by his long, light-gray hair, and his body was well concealed by his long, dark cloak, save for his right leg and his left shoulder. His face was fair, and his eyes were gray, a very strange trait for an Easterner. About his leg, he wore nothing but a simple pair of common black pants, but on his shoulder sat a galvorn pauldron, an item of terrible strength, who's metal was unlike any other metal known to man. Stronger, even, than mithril ore.   
  
"Who... Who are you?" yelled the leader of the group, his voice trembling in fear and amazement.   
  
"Who am I? I am no one, nothing of any relevance. Just a lost spirit doomed to wander the earth till my mortal life expires. But who I am is of no concern to you anyhow, as you will die this night!" responded Saryn.   
  
"Fool! We'll destroy you, boy! There are two of us, and only one of you!" exclaimed the man, leaping to his feet. His full figure now came into view, as it was hidden by the shadows cast by the fire around which the fighters stood. He was dressed like a common Easterner, his leather armor no where near complete, his clothes worn, his feet dirty. He wielded a sharp axe, and he was muscular. The same was true of his companion, although he was of slightly lesser build. "Die!" they yelled, charging at Saryn.   
  
"So be it, if you wish it, I can kill you quickly, or slowly. It's your choice, really." declared Saryn, calmly.   
  
"Boy, I'll skin 'yer hide and use it to carry my friend's dead body! You murderer!" yelled the smaller man. Saying this, they charged at the man with a terrible wrath.   
Closing his eyes, Saryn said, "So be it." Saryn raised his blade and poised himself for battle.   
  
The men charged at Saryn, their feet loudly stomping upon the soft earth as they traversed the short distance between themselves and the mysterious murderer. Saryn just stood there, his silver-streaked dai-katana hanging down from his left hand, it's sharp point just grazing the dirt. He looked at the ground. As the men neared, he tightened his grip on Azulaba, and his grinned widened across his pale face.  
  
"Prepare to die, boy!" shouted the smaller man, raising his fell axe in the air, prepared to hew Saryn's body in half. As he neared Saryn, he began to lower his axe into a strong swing. Just before the edge of the man's axe was about to slice through Saryn, he rushed to the right. The man stopped, panting, with a confused look upon his brow. Then suddenly he felt a presence to his immediate left. It was too late however, as Saryn slashed his blade through the mid-section of the Easterner. The man fell to his knees, his torso drenched in dark red blood, his life source flowing out of him, and he collapsed onto a wooden log that had been laid about the fire. He could do naught but groan, for he was so dazzled by the sudden blow. His eyes looked to their right, and they saw that same evil grin upon Saryn's face as had been there when he slew their comrade. Slowly, his eyes closed shut, and he was silent forever more.  
  
His partner witnessed the blow, and was infuriated. Charging very quickly at Saryn, he was full of rage, yet more cautious of his actions that his fallen friend. He readied his axe, and swung with a terrible wrath, but he struck nothing but air.   
  
"Where has that man gone to?" he asked himself. All of a sudden, a silver streak made itself out in the sky. Azulaba went screeching through the air and pierced the man's temple, penetrating deep into his skull. The man fell dead instantly, a look of shock and horror frozen upon his face.  
  
"Hmph. Well, I told you... Tisk tisk. Such a waste." said Saryn, looking at his last victim. "Oh well. Business is business." Pulling out his blade from the man's skull, he took a small rag from his pocket. It was worn, dyed red and stained with blood. Taking it into his palm, he cleaned the red blood off of his katana. After cleansing his blade, he looked at his dead opponents. Then, suddenly remembering something, he sheathed Azulaba in it's great black sheath, which hung at his waist like a sack of coins, and took out of his pocket a small dagger wrought of steel. "Well, no time like the present." he said sighing. Bending down next to the corpse, he took the knife in one hand and cut off the ear of the dead man. He then did the same to the next man. Taking the severed ears in his right hand, he hid his dagger and withdrew a small black bag. Dumping the ears into it, he got up and left the now desolate and empty camp. As he turned east, a wind blew across his face, and he was again at peace. Ever so quietly he began dashing in the eastward direction, stopping not, though the beautiful countryside often offered many great views, for he had to reach the city of Rarun by morning to meet his contact, and to drop off the ears of the dead men, a sign that he had done the deed. 


	2. Chapter 2

Saryn sped across the green plains at tremendous speed, moving so fast one could barely see him. The reddish-yellow beams of the sun spread gently just above the horizon, like a phoenix who's wings are spread to full width and who's flames shine like fire. The grass was dewy and wet, and the air was cool. Dawn was always beautiful in the lands of Rhun, and the morning was always a comfortable time. Saryn pressed on and on through the moist ground, panting, but always focused with a strong determination in his eyes. He ran for miles at a time, and in a matter of hours he had reached the eastern city of Rarun, a grand spectacle of stone and wood, a showcase for the fine craftsmanship that the men of Rhun possessed. The city was surrounded in stone walls with a tall gate serving as the only gap between the city and the countryside, it being one of the major cities in Rhun, and it was almost impregnable from the outside. Saryn stopped before the gates and gazed up at the magnificent stone structure. It was sturdy and strong, it's roofs vaulted with wood, and narrow arrow slits lined its sheer walls. The gate was barred, for at that time in the fourth age, the men of Rhun were in a dispute with the men of Khand. As Saryn slowly approached the gate, a man called out from the ramparts.  
  
"Ho there! Who goes hither towards the gate of Rarun?" the leather-clad sentry called to Saryn.  
  
"It is I, Saryn Sarethi! Most assuredly thou hast heard of me, for I left here but three days ago in pursuit of some men." he answered.  
  
"Ahh. I have heard tales of your prowess with a blade, master assassin. I shall open the gates"  
  
"We quick about it lad! I am still under contract!" Saryn explained.  
  
Quickly thereafter the heavy iron gate was raised, and Saryn passed through the dirt path under it into the city. Dust was all about the town, for most roads, save for the streets of the Manor District, were not really streets but rather dirt paths. However, the dust mainly kept itself to the paths, and it pestered not the rest of the city.  
  
"Now, where was that accursed tavern?" thought Saryn, scratching his head. As he thought, a plain farmer passed by him carrying two small wooden pales of water. "You there! Where is the Serpent's Tail Tavern?" Saryn inquired in an angry tone.  
  
"Oh, it's just up the street. Wait a minute, aren't you that Saryn fellow? I've heard many tales about you, I have." responded the man.  
  
"Aye, that I am. But now is not the time, sir. I DO have appointments, you know!"  
  
The man suddenly caught the error of his ways in holding the fierce assassin Saryn Sarethi up for idle conversation. "Oh, yes. Yes, so sorry sir!" he nervously blurted out.  
  
"Hmm. Be on your way now." said Saryn, slightly turning his head in the man's direction. Then, turning to his left, he went up the street to the Serpent's Tail.  
  
Saryn pushed open a worn wooden door, and walked into a room filled with ale and rowdy men. Well, except for Saryn's contact, a Jareth Khaazu, who sat in a dark corner in his fine clothing, sipping a tall mug of ale. Mr. Khaazu was a very wealthy proprietor, and he had many holdings throughout the East. Saryn marched over to the round wood table and sat down next to him.  
  
"It is done." he said in a hushed tone.  
  
"Good. Do you have proof? Care to show me?" asked Jareth in his deep, menacing voice.  
  
"Yes. Here..." Saryn said, drawing the small black bag from his pocket. The bottom was now soaked in blood. From it he pulled the two ears, and set them quietly on the table.  
  
"Good. Very good. I can see why you are so well known. I assume you will be expecting your payment now? Very well. It was a pleasure." said Jareth, pulling a large, hefty sack of gold coins from his pocket.   
  
Saryn grabbed the bag and put it inside his cloak. "Thank you. A pleasure it truly was." Saying this, he rose from the table and was about to leave when he heard the deep voice of Jareth from behind him.  
  
"You know. There is another bit of work I have for you, if you are interested."  
  
Saryn stopped walking. "Yes. I'm listening."  
"Well, come with me Saryn! Let's go get a drink." Jareth offered.  
  
"Of course." Saryn said, starting his walk across the room to the bar, through all the pipe smoke that cluttered the room, with Jareth following in close pursuit. They reached a stool and sat down.  
  
"One Prairie Oyster. And you'll be having..." said Saryn, turning to Jareth.  
  
"Just a mug of ale, barkeep!" he said amiably to the bartender. "Now," turning to Saryn, "as I was saying, I have a new job for you. Now, this one's a bit different then you're used to, but I'm sure you'll find it quite interesting. I'm sure your familiar with the history? Well, no doubt you've heard of Utumno, the ancient fortress of the Vala Morgoth? Well," said Jareth, his voice lessening into a whisper, "there're rumors of very powerful and very valuable artifacts in those deep, dark pits. And, as you know, I am a collector of ancient artifacts."  
  
"I'm not a thief!" Saryn snapped. Saryn was about to begin talking again when the bartender came over and handed them their drinks.  
  
"Have a good one, eh boys?" said the elderly man, walking away to serve another customer.  
  
"But the pay! Oh the pay! Believe me Saryn, this job is for you!" pleaded Jareth. "Besides, you are the only man alive who could survive the trip down into that evil place. There are things there that should never be seen by mortal or immortal eyes, save for the Valar alone."  
  
"Evil, eh? Fine. I'll go, but you better pay me well Jareth!" Saryn declared, gulping down his drink.  
  
Jareth sighed. "Thank you! You have no idea how much we'll both profit from this! No idea! Here, take this paper and this old map. It should answer most of your questions." said Jareth, drawing a clean, folded, sheet of paper from his pocket.  
  
Saryn took the paper and the map and read silently. The note said this:  
  
"Jareth! I've found it! The ruins of Utumno! The very Utumno we were searching for thirty years ago! I know it's here, that grand sword. That old man couldn't have been lying to us! I saw it with my own eyes! Two strange figures were taking it down into the depths when my crew and myself arrived! I'll dispatch Irorak with this message, and then I'll go into the depths with the rest of my crew! We'll be rich, friend! So bloody rich it'll make you cry! Your friend,  
  
Rashok  
  
The note was dated Year 2, the fourth age.  
  
Saryn put the paper down, and Jareth began to speak. "He was my friend. That note was six years ago. I... I haven't seen another note from his since." Jareth said, looking almost sad.  
  
"Don't give me your damn tears! I'll get this thing for you, and I'll be back in a month or so. I'll meet you here." Saryn said.  
  
"Very well. I'll be right here, Saryn Sarethi. Good luck!" responded Jareth.  
  
"Thank you. Well, I'll be off now." said Saryn, rising from his seat. As he left the Serpent's Tail, he caught the eye of a fair, shapely woman sitting in one of the tables, beneath a brown cloak. He could've sworn that she had heard some of the conversation, but he had no time to bother with her. He approached the door and pushed it open, taking a breath of fresh air to relieve his lungs of the pipe smoke that was so common in bars in the East. After he disappeared from the doorway, the cloaked woman rose from her seat and followed him out the door. 


End file.
